


heavy

by angelsprunch



Series: losers analysis [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: And gore, Angst, Gore, Other, Self Harm, and it talks about all of them, and it's really stan centric, but all the losers are mentioned, this is angsty, warning for self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:01:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsprunch/pseuds/angelsprunch
Summary: in his final moments, stan remembers his friends





	heavy

It started with a phone call.

Sure, Stan remembered it all, but he didn’t. It was a weird limbo that he tried not to think about as he went through his days. There was a scar on his hand and if Stan thought about it, he knew that it came from something horrific. Well, it came from a broken Coke bottle and six other people had identical marks. They all did it because of something horrific, though. There was a painting of a woman that his father had given him when he moved in with Patty and Stan felt it chill him to the bone whenever he saw it. Needless to say, the painting stayed in Patty’s office and he tried his hardest to make sure he never saw it. There was a water tower in town that he passed on his way to work and names of birds came to mind whenever he glanced at it. He knew he was living an alright life, but it still felt like it was missing something. Stan would sometimes take his lunch break at a time so he could have lunch with his wife and he’d see children laughing and he remembered himself and six other kids, but he didn’t remember them being this carefree.

It hadn’t occurred to Stan why it all felt so wrong until he received a phone call from someone by the name Mike Hanlon. Stan assumed that he was the first one to receive a call because Mike seemed to be in a hurry to share the information, but Stan figured that could just be the nature of the cool. Two words was all it took to break his psyche. Two words and it all came rushing back. It was back. The voice that seemed to shatter it all for Stan also brought back happy memories. He remembered his first kiss in a barn after dark. They hid because if anyone saw two boys kissing it would be horrific for both of them. He remembered holding hands with the boy when no one was looking.

At first Stan would always shower after visiting the boy because he didn’t want to smell like a farm. Eventually he didn’t want to wash Mike’s touch from his skin. Stan still didn’t like going to the farm, but he liked seeing Mike so when he started to find out that there was a system to all of this he began to find things he did enjoy. After the chores were done, the boys would go into the Hanlon house and he remembers the smell of home cooked meals as he sat down with Mike and Mrs. Hanlon made plates for them. After a few visits, she learned to cook some Kosher meals for when Stan helped Mike with chores.

“I’m going to take a bath.” he had told his wife and it was true. As he walked up the steps he scanned the walls of his home and wondered what the others were doing just about now. He thought of a boy who had poetry flowing from his fingertips. Was Ben at a library right now? Did he remember all of this? Stan didn’t think he did. It was likely that they all forgot. Maybe that’s what was supposed to happen, they were all supposed to forget and it would come back but they wouldn’t know any better. The man laughed bitterly as he entered the bathroom. Was it bad luck for them or for that monster that Mike stayed in Derry?

Stan didn’t know and he was too scared to find out. He turned the faucet of the tub and plugged the drain. Watching as the water filled the tub, Stan remembered how sometimes he would sit in the libraries with Ben. The chubby boy would read some of his poetry aloud and Stan would correct flaws in his grammar. As beautiful as the words sounded, Ben still wasn’t fantastic in the grammar department. Ben never seemed to mind, though, when Stan offered corrections. It was usually followed by gentle encouragements. Stan gathered his razor from the cabinet and set it on the edge of the tub while he stripped his clothes. Ben had helped him in some of his darkest times, he remembered. After that thing had gotten a hold of him, Ben had helped him learn to live with the scars on his face. Stan paused to peer into the mirror and look at the scars. There were still there, faint and white. They offered a nice contrast against his skin, but Stan didn’t think there was anything nice about it.

Ben was a nice kid, Stan remembered that. It was arguable that he was the nicest of them all. He was gentle despite his large stature and he seemed to really care about the rest of the losers despite being so new to their group. As Stan climbed into the tub and emerged himself in the water that was almost too hot, he wondered if Ben was still like that. He wondered if Ben understood what it was like to have scars haunt you because of the ‘H’ carved into Ben’s own stomach. For a moment, Stan closed his eyes and let the warmth envelop him. He hoped that Ben was happy now. Although, he was really doubting that any of them could be completely happy.

The first cut reminded Stan of a girl with fire red hair. He figured she was the first crush for all of the losers. If she wasn’t the first, he knew that they all loved her at some point in their lives. Her hair demanded attention and so did she. He remembers thrift store clothes that never seemed to fit quite right and he remembers her demanding to be treated as an equal. The blood comes from the wound in drops at first so Stan cuts again and this time it comes faster. He closes his eyes once more and he remembers a fight between Beverly and Bill. She wanted to be a part of the smoke ritual, but Bill had said no. It started under the guise of someone needing to stay out of it to help the others out when the smoke became too much.

Beverly had seen through that, though. It was as if she spent her life trying to look past illusions to get to the real answer to life’s problems. He knew that in a way she did. She had to look past what he father did to realize that it wasn’t her fault, he was just a monster. Beverly had to look past the way she viewed her own mother to realize that the woman was just as trapped as she was in that home. Now, Beverly was looking past Bill’s stuttered words to see that they were excluding her because she was a girl. They didn’t think she would be able to handle it, so they told her to stay out. It hadn’t worked, though, and when Beverly threatened to leave they gave in and decided to leave it up to luck. Yet, luck seemed to lead them all into the hole. He hoped Beverly was still standing up for herself.

Stan remembered that he had been the first to leave and he laughed, again, because he was the first to leave this as well. He was the first to no longer be a loser.

The second cut went across the other wrist and Stan wondered how this would have gone down if he had done this during the blood oath. He had made a joke and it was on his mind, but Stan could never do this in front of the other losers. It would definitely make Eddie puke or keel over and possibly faint. It wasn’t that he thought Eddie couldn’t handle the sight of blood. He had been the one to patch up Ben after the incident with Bowers. It was more that Stan thought Eddie couldn’t handle the number of germs that could be on the broken bottle. If he wasn’t thinking about offing himself, perhaps he would have been worried about it too. Stan sighed and watched as the water tinted red. Perhaps he should feel more alone, more hopeless. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel hopeless because he knew there was no chance in defeating that monster a second time. Stan knew he couldn’t handle it. It was almost as if another entity was controlling him, though. The thought left Stan feeling uneasy and he shook his head to rid himself of it. This was his choice and his alone.

This time, Stan thought about two boys with a love for baseball. He remembers a boy who seemed to always have a stomach full of sugar pills and a fanny pack full of more. Eddie had a pill for anything and with his vast knowledge on all things medical, he could help any of the losers in an emergency. Bird watching was always best with Eddie because, despite his fear of bird flu, Eddie stayed quiet. The others always had something to say or they seemed to wait for Stan to point out the different birds to them. Eddie didn’t really care, though. He seemed content picking dandelions and listening to the birds sing. Eddie would pick flowers and put them in Stan’s hair and Stan wouldn’t comment on how it should be flaring up Eddie’s allergies, he knew it was fake.

Staring at his arms, each dorning a horizontal gash, Stan frowned and decided this wouldn’t be enough. Patty would surely be coming to check on him. With a shaky hand, Stan connected a vertical line to the horizontal lines and pushed down hard. When he brought the blade away from his arms he noticed the water quickly changing color. He leaned his head back against the wall and he remembered a boy with glasses almost as thick as his skull. A smile tugged at Stan’s lips and he wondered if he ever used that insult towards the boy.

Thinking about Richie filled Stan’s heart with dread. Despite the love that was between Stan and Mike, Stan knew that this would hurt the trashmouth the most. They were each other’s first friends and they had a love that couldn’t quite be described. It wasn’t the same as the indescribable relationship between Richie and Eddie, though. When he was younger, Stan wondered if Richie was just such a unique person that all of his relationships seemed to surpass words. Now, when he thought about it, Stan realized that that was partly true. It was also because Richie loved all of his friends so much that he put his all into those relationships. Stan knew that Richie loved his friends more than he even loved himself. “I hope you’re having some good chucks, trashmouth.” he mumbled with a shaky breath.

Stan closed his eyes for what he thought would be the last time when the painting in Patty’s office appeared behind his eyes. A hand flew to cover his mouth, spraying blood along the porcelain wall of the shower, as he tried to conceal his shriek. Stan knew that they fought a monster, but now he was imagining It in all of It’s forms. It was terrifying. Shaky hands touched his bloodied arms and Stan remembered the leader of their ragtag group. A tall boy with a stutter and more confidence than the rest of them combined.

Bill always faced things head on and Stan had always believed it to be foolish. Fear existed to let you know when you went too far, it was there to tell you when to turn back. Or, that was what Stan told himself and what he told Bill on several occasions. Still, Bill was the one who went into the house on Neibolt street. It was Bill who led them into the sewers. It may have been Stan who initiated the blood oath, but he knew that Bill would follow through on it. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that all of them would except for Stan. However, he knew that Bill would go into the sewers alone to defeat this monster.

It had taken something from all of them, but that clown had taken Bill’s younger brother which resulted in his family fading away as well. With bloodstained fingers, Stan wrote ‘It” on the wall. He knew that this wasn’t his choice. He knew he couldn’t go back and fight the beast, but he knew this wasn’t his choice. Bob Gray was controlling him from miles away. “Defeat the bastard, Bill.” he said as he tilted his head back against the wall and allowed the darkness to take him.

When Stan opened his eyes again, he was greeted by a smiling face that looked a lot like Bill’s as a child. “Stanny! I’ve been so lonely, I don’t have any friends here. Will you play with me?”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope everyone like this ! let me know what you think and find me on tumblr @ georgiesdenbrough


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